


Justice Is Blind

by bringtherain



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Crimes & Criminals, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Family Issues, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, Past Abuse, Police, Stalking, but nothing graphic i swear, more detailed warnings in the notes, the warnings are mostly because some parts of the story may touch sensitive issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringtherain/pseuds/bringtherain
Summary: A college student, an assassin, and a lawyer walk into a bar...AKA Marius just wanted to help out his neighbor but somehow he got caught up in an elaborate assassination plot(a Les Miserables Daredevil Crossover)





	Justice Is Blind

**Author's Note:**

> hello so I've been working on this since like 2014(?) honestly I don't really remember but it's been so long I figured I might as well just post what I have now, the story focuses on the main plot of Les Mis combined with elements from the Daredevil comics
> 
> the narrative jumps from scene to scene in a (mostly) non-linear fashion but hopefully that won't be too confusing to keep up with
> 
> the story is set in New York instead of Paris because Daredevil, I apologize for any inaccuracies with the location the last time I was in New York was like ten years ago lol
> 
>  **warnings for:** swearing, sexual harassment (Fantine's story), violence (characters get beat up in alleys kind of thing), bad family situations, implied/off screen physical abuse, paranoia and stalking (Eponine and Cosette's backstory because of Thenardier), alcoholism (a couple of references, not featured heavily), implied racism (again only a couple of references in the narration and not featured heavily)

**part one**

It was still early morning when Marius left his apartment, the cool October air whipping around him. He admired the autumn colors of the trees as he passed them by, humming happily to himself. His good mood didn't falter even when he descended down the steps to brave the perils of the New York subway.

 

He reached the familiar path to Central Park still carrying an upbeat tune. Most days he’d see couples walking hand in hand, joggers, or people walking their dogs. Marius also occasionally crossed paths with an elderly man who loved taking sunlit strolls while carrying rather large, ancient looking books. At first Marius would cheerily greet him good morning then be on his way but one day he decided initiate an actual conversation. He stopped to say hello. They ended up becoming friends. It may seem strange but Marius always had an easier time making friends with the elderly. So more often than not if they meet each other on their walks they’d walk together for a while and chat.

 

He hasn’t seen any sign of Mabeuf lately though. Marius would be worried but he's always worried too much. Maybe Mabeuf had something come up on his mornings and he now had to relegate his leisurely strolls to an afternoon schedule? Marius could easily see the same thing happening to him. Mabeuf would share the same inclination since they’re so alike. They both like books, gardens, going to church, going out for walks, they both support the right to protest…they both don’t have any family left. The tears that threaten to spill surprised Marius. His grandfather can go fuck himself for all he cares. It’s not that Marius particularly enjoys reflecting on his life but he often gets lost in thought, he thinks of one thing it leads to another and before he knows it he gets stuck inside his head.

 

Marius suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket with several new notifications all at once. It startles him enough back to reality. He slows his walk to check. He got several texts from Courfeyrac most of them reminding him about the upcoming movie night with Les Amis but at least half of them are just various heart emojis. He smiles down at his phone. Courfeyrac loves his friends and he’s not afraid to show it. Being his boyfriend is no different. He will unabashedly shower you with affectionate good morning texts and reminders. Marius loves it.

 

He continues on his walk, the benches he passes by brings to mind some other memories he has of the park. Sometimes he’d spot an old man, maybe approaching his late sixties, sitting on one of the benches. He had a strange likeness to Father Christmas in appearance and perhaps, once, in attitude but now the white-haired man gave off the unhappy air of one who used to frequent the park with his grandchild but knew those days had passed and resigned himself to sit alone on a cold park bench, ruminating. However, like Mabeuf, said man was not there today either. Instead he saw a figure up ahead in a long coat, newsboy cap, and scarf.

 

He abruptly stopped walking. If he didn’t know any better he’d say that was Eponine but he wasn’t about to rule out the possibility of a doppelgänger. The strawberry blonde hair threw him off a little as well. Then the stranger turned her head and he could see her face; there was no doubt now that that was Eponine. She had dyed her hair but other than that looked similar to when they first met, wary with a certain apprehension he couldn't name. Though unlike when they first met he knew why.

 

Seeing her now, Marius could immediately infer two things. The first was that Eponine was still keeping tabs on the Patron Minette. He had hoped that when he helped her escape she would run away, _far far away_ , and never look back. But if you stop to think about it maybe that would’ve been more dangerous, _not_ knowing what Thenardier was up to. So Eponine was always looking over her shoulder, worried about the fucking mafia or whatever being involved in the Patron Minette meant (Marius isn’t actually quite sure what kind of illegal stuff it is they do) but it had never been clearer to Marius than in that moment why Enjolras was always speaking up against injustice, so dedicatedly fighting for his causes. _No one_ deserves to live like that. The second was that Patron Minette must be up to something worse than usual.

 

They both walked to a secluded corner shaded by some trees. "It's about Cosette," Eponine signed. "She and Fantine are in danger. My father plans to hire an assassin. I'm afraid I don't have much more info than that. I'm so tired of this shit. It can't continue. I'm going to come forward, put all of them behind bars once and for all."

Marius looked worried, "We're going to need a lawyer we can trust" he signed back. Thenardier had a lot of connections and easily weaseled his way out of tight spots. Babet had gotten arrested a few months ago but Eponine's father and the Patron Minette were still at large. Maybe if they looked more into Babet's arrest? The fact that he's currently still in jail means that whoever got him arrested wasn't connected to Thenardier. They now at least had the beginnings of a plan. Step 1: Check out the lawyers who took the case.

   

\------

Daredevil was crouching on the ledge of a rundown apartment building like a gargoyle. It was routine to him by now, sifting through the noise of the city and locating a cry for help out of the thrum. An alley cat softly padding by a dumpster. The sound of someone adjusting their radio. The scratch of a pencil on paper. Rush hour traffic. A bad cough and a very worried heartbeat. The last one caught his attention. Though it didn’t necessarily indicate someone in need of a vigilante something in his gut said _help them_ and in this job you learn to trust your instincts. He took a swan dive off the roof.  

 

 -----

Cosette was safe at her college dorm, Fantine reassured herself, but not if the bills were left unpaid. Fantine had been out of work for two days and the worry was eating at her. Who would hire her when they find out the reason she was fired? No one would want someone like _that_ in an office! She had nothing to make up for her faults and she was slowly losing hope. She was walking the streets of New York without the slightest clue of what she was supposed to do next, lost. She stifled her coughs and kept her head down as she walked to not draw attention to herself, but she had wandered into the wrong neighborhood.

 

“What’s a _lovely lady_ like you doing in a place like this?” 

 

Fantine startles. “Please leave me alone.”

 

“Rude bitch!” Fantine flinched. “I was just trying to give you a compliment,” The man said. He continued to approach her.

 

“I said leave me alone,” she said, louder, trying not to let her voice shake while she walked past him. But the man had grabbed a pack of melting ice from the dumpster nearby and slid it down her dress when her back was turned.

 

Fantine reaction was instantaneous and violent; she turned around and punched him.

 

The man stumbled back. It was not a particularly strong punch but the ferocity in which it was delivered had shocked him.

 

Fantine struck again, several times, with clenched fists.

 

The man was spluttering now, he was on the ground and did not attempt to stand back up. His body was positioned facing Fantine, behind her a wall, with his back to the entrance of the alleyway. It escaped Fantine’s notice that the man had picked up a broken beer bottle from the ground. He carefully gripped it so as not to injure himself. His plans for the jagged glass were not particularly pleasant. But before he could do anything to the unsuspecting Fantine a newcomer arrived at the scene. He immediately changed his plan.

 

“No, please don’t hurt me,” the man whimpered, in his mind’s eye quickly painting a picture of someone so obviously wronged and beat up on the ground.

 

Fantine was about to protest but her voice died in her throat. She understood the situation and acquiesced. The newcomer would side with her attacker, _she_ was the one in the wrong for punching him and there was nothing she could do; it was just like when she lost her job.

 

“This is my fate,” she thought, it seemed her life was just one inevitable cruelty after another. The unfairness of it was the one constant in her life. Instead, that was when she was saved.

 

The newcomer spoke quite plainly, “And you weren’t just about to stab her with a broken beer bottle?”

 

The man’s eyes widened with fear a split second before he was once again punched in the face.

 

 

\-----

Jean Valjean was a man who worked day in and day out. He hardly had time for himself. But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to make ends meet. Besides there are much worse things than a 9 to 5 desk job. Then one day his world came crashing down on him. 

“I’m being replaced?”

 

“Don’t take it personally, Jean, the work you do is valued, it’s just that a machine can do it faster and more efficiently.”

 

“I would like my pay, then.”

 

At this his boss suddenly looked uncomfortable, “I'm afraid that's not possible-"

 

"Not possible? What do you mean _not possible_ " the rage behind Valjean's voice was palpable.

 

"Your work record was accidentally erased due to a computer error so technically there's no proof that you ever worked here.”

 

Valjean had to be restrained and thrown out by security.

 

 

 

\------

A little girl, she can’t have been more than five years old, was silently crying behind a trashcan in an alleyway. A man in a yellow coat happened to be passing by and caught sight of her. He kept a respectful distance and crouched down to talk. The man was Jean Valjean. The little girl was Cosette. He asked her what was wrong.

 

“I miss my mother.”

 

“Where is she?”

 

Cosette began to wipe her tears on her sleeve. The man offered her his handkerchief; she took it gratefully.

 

“She works a lot, she has to or else we won’t be able to pay rent, so I’m often left alone in our apartment,” Cosette said this as she wiped off the dirt and tears from her face.

 

“Why aren’t you there now?”

 

Cosette did not immediately reply, instead absentmindedly wiping her tears and, along with it, the dirt. The grime from living in a rundown apartment had hid her bruises. There was the answer to Valjean’s question, he felt a fierce protectiveness come over him.

 

“The landlord, he and his wife boss me around and- and make me cry... I go here to hide from them,” Cosette said in a small voice.

 

She handed Valjean back his handkerchief. Valjean tucked it back in his pocket and offered to buy Cosette some food.

 

 

 

They were sitting on a park bench eating sandwiches. Cosette was happy.

 

Valjean took out a scrap of paper and a pen meaning to write down some contact information but Cosette began to speak. He paused mid-scribble.

 

“I am sorry but whatever you are writing... it would be of no use to me, I cannot read.”

 

Valjean was troubled by this but he did not comment, instead he put away the pen and paper and said gentle but resolute, “If you ever need help, you can come find me. I like to take strolls in Central Park.”

 

 

Valjean, from then on, spent most of his time reading on a bench in the park. Cosette often came by, and he’d read to her. He taught her how to read and write. He sang her songs and told her stories. He did not know how but suddenly it was as if there was a path laid out before him, he saw a future – an actual future for himself! – and he’d dare not stumble back into a life of crime. He made a difference in the life of a child.

 

Cosette started visiting less and less. From what he could tell her mother got a better paying job and could afford to move to a much better apartment and spend more time at home. He was sad to see her go but he was glad she was ok.

 

\-----

Murdock and Valjean had run into Cosette. It was as if she had been on her way to find them just as they had been on their way to find her. Cosette ran to Valjean and hugged him.

 

"My mom's missing and I'm scared, you're the only person I could trust to help."

 

\-------

“Come on, Matt, at least smile,”

 

They were at a new bar, the Corinthe, Foggy insisted that they try the place out because they haven’t been there before but Matt knows it’s because he’d been such a downer lately and Foggy figured maybe a night out drinking with his best friend would help. The reality was Matt was just really tired. It was the fourth night in a row he didn’t get a wink of sleep but he obliged Foggy a smile. And it was a real smile that came to him, knowing Foggy cared so much. He’d seriously be lost without him. There was just a lot on his mind. The increased number of stabbings in the area. The Mabeuf case. The Patron Minette. They're all connected somehow, he's just not quite sure how. There has to be more to it, there must be something Matt’s missing-

 

“Another round on me,” Foggy told the bartender. That brought Matt back to the present, he was out drinking with Foggy. He should at least try to enjoy it, put aside everything else on his mind for later. He does.

 

An hour later someone plops into the seat next to Matt.

 

“The usual?” The bartender asks the stranger almost absentmindedly, cleaning glasses.

 

“Something stronger.”

 

The bartender nodded understandingly and started preparing his drink.

 

“Hey, are you ok?” Matt asks the guy. He turns his head, and Matt notes the way his heart rate speeds up just a bit.

 

“I don’t need to be patronized by another hot- I mean I-”

 

The bartender passes him his drink and he’s never been more thankful for alcohol in his life. He takes the opportunity to stop talking gratefully, picks up the glass and takes a swig. He was still way too sober to spill all his troubles to a random attractive stranger at a bar but now that he was well on his way to getting blackout drunk, he figured why the hell not, “You can call me R, I got into an argument with” he paused for a beat, as if wondering how to refer to whoever he was arguing with as, “a guy way too idealistic for his own good and he kicked me out so I figured now wouldn’t be a bad time to get drunk off my ass.”

 

“Do you need a place to stay?”

 

The man, R, looks at them in slight confusion for a second, “You’re inviting me to stay at your- Oh, by ‘kicked out’ I meant out of the meeting,” a student activist group he’d say later by way of explanation, “he wanted to raise awareness for homelessness and I told him it wouldn’t work because unless it affects them personally _people don’t care_. I mean you can shine a spotlight on an issue and people, either moved with pity or wanting to make a show of how good of a person they are, show up to donate or volunteer or whatever. They’re basically emotionally manipulated into supporting the cause but in the long run none of them care. They go back to doing whatever it is they were doing before. Doesn’t matter what issue it is, this holds true for all of them. Once the spotlight is gone, the world forgets about it soon enough.” His tone grew increasingly more morose the longer he talked. He punctuated his last sentence by downing the remaining contents of his glass and requesting a refill.

 

Foggy got up from his place next to Matt to sit on the empty bar stool on R’s left and patted R’s back. “I assure you, R, there are people who do care. Matt and I know what you mean about the injustices of the world, probably more than we’d like but that’s why we became lawyers. To fight against those injustices you have to be up close and personal with them. You can go to us if you ever need help, ok?”

 

“T-That actually does make me feel better, thank you,” R’s words were starting to slur but the sincerity was there. He took another long drink from his glass.

 

Matt couldn’t help the small smile at those words. Foggy always knew what to say to cheer someone up, first him then a complete stranger, there should be a Foggy Nelson Appreciation Day, and that day should be every day.

 

 

\-----

The only light in the room, a single fluorescent bulb dangling over the occupants’ heads, casted a sharp contrast of light and shadows. Cigar smoke hung in the air.

 

Thenardier put a briefcase on the table. “One hundred thousand dollars. I want Daredevil dead.”

 

So Thenardier was serious about this deal after all, the assassin thought. It’s actually not so much the money as the satisfaction, but Thenardier doesn’t have to know that. “Consider it done.”

 

After all, anything is a weapon in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I said I was working on this for years I only finished up to part two (out of three) but I can't post it yet because there are some plot holes I still have to fix I'm currently swamped right now with schoolwork so expect an update maybe next month
> 
> **Some notes:**
> 
> Eponine is hard of hearing because of gunshots being fired near her ear (which is explained more in the next chapter), if you're deaf or hard of hearing and feel I didn't write it well feel free to correct me on what I did wrong
> 
> I originally just had Marius walking instead of taking the subway but then I realized "wait is it realistic for him to own an apartment within walking distance of Central Park?" *googles where is central park* "oh shit it's in Manhattan? yeah definitely not accurate" there are probably a lot more errors like that that I didn't quite catch so if you're the kind of person who gets annoyed by inaccurate depictions of New York life I'm sorry
> 
> The last scene with Thenardier was based on a scene from the Daredevil comics (if you know which one then you already have an idea on how the story ends for Matt at least, though Black Widow does not make an appearance in this fic sorry)
> 
> also Valjean's backstory was combined with/borrowed from Aaron Soames (Mauler) because his origin story reminded me of Valjean [read more about it here](http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Aaron_Soames_\(Earth-616\))


End file.
